The Commitment Deliberation
by NinjaNovelist
Summary: "And for one brief, shining moment, Sheldon could visualize it." Spoilers for Season 8 finale.


Ironically enough, it had all started during the attempt to artificially produce romantic feelings for his next-door neighbor.

When it was his turn to describe his perfect day, and Penny had accused him of leaving Amy out of it just as she had with Leonard, his reply fell effortlessly off his tongue as if the words had all been in a line, waiting to be said.

"Who do you think made the french toast with butter and syrup?"

He barely even had to think about it, and it was that fact that gave him pause. He's always loved his girlfriend's cooking, from the sporadic date night meal at her apartment to her Christmas gift of Meemaw's famous holiday cookies, but never in his life had he tried her french toast. And why? Because it was strictly a breakfast food, to be eaten every other Friday only, and Sheldon was a firm believer in restricting foods deigned socially acceptable for a certain meal to their designated time slots. So to imply that Amy had made him french toast implied that she was there when he was having breakfast. Which meant…

An image flashed through his mind, so fleeting he almost missed it, of his girlfriend in a long bathrobe and adorably rumpled hair shooting him a quick, beaming smile as she prepared their meal. She knew just what his preferred ratio of syrup to bread was, and even managed to place the small square of butter exactly in the center of the perfect plateful, made for him by the perfect woman.

And for one brief, shining moment, Sheldon could visualize it.

The second time was the day they had almost begun a family, but also the day he had nearly ruined everything.

It had started out wonderfully, Amy's smile so dazzlingly bright he could barely keep his eyes off her, just couldn't help but grin back like the lovesick genius that he was (because Sheldon Cooper was never a fool, even when it came to love). But then just one mention of _possibly_ abandoning his longtime girlfriend forever in favor of living upon a practically uninhabitable planet billions of miles away, and suddenly _he_ was the bad guy.

He really had no clue what he had done that was so terrible, but he hated to see his Amy upset, especially when he knew that he was the cause. He had done whatever he could think of to put that lovely smile back on her face, but even the whimsical allure of a nasal-based rendition of the classic Star Trek theme couldn't seem to cheer her up again.

And then she was starting to leave, and suddenly Sheldon became so frustrated because _why_? It was times like these above all else that he wished he could read minds. Most of the times when he was confused by another's reaction to a given situation, Amy was there to take him by the hand and guide him through the landmine field that was human emotions. She possessed that elusive (at least for him, anyway) talent of empathy, the neurobiologist in her able to understand the intricacies of the human mind and how the world worked in response, then translate that in a way Sheldon could grasp. When _she_ was the one who was upset, however, he was left to muddle through it all on his own. Why couldn't she just lay it out for him plainly, like she was building with his toy train tracks? The world would be so much simpler if it ran like the trains he so loved.

"You know Sheldon, at any other time, learning that you had plans to go live on Mars would be a slow news day." (The comment bit at him more than he would willingly admit). "But a couple of hours ago, we were getting a turtle. And silly as it sounds… I thought that meant something."

Well, at least now she was laying it out for him.

More than once, Sheldon had reflected that it felt like he was speaking a whole different language than everyone else. Sure, there were some who managed to communicate with him in bits and pieces- his mother, Penny, Leonard and the rest of the gang- but there was hardly anyone with whom he could completely and absolutely relate. There was Beverly, who could fully understand him on an intellectual level, then there was Meemaw, who could fully understand him on an emotional… and then there was Amy, who by some god-given miracle could do both. Amy was the only person on Earth completely fluent in Sheldonese.

And he just let her walk out his door like that meant nothing.

"Amy, wait!" he called as he chased her- yes, _chased her_ \- down the steps. "Getting a turtle meant a great deal to me, too."

"Sure, unless something better comes along." Then she turned again to go.

Now he was getting desperate. He still wasn't certain about what exactly was bothering her; all he knew was that he couldn't stand the sight of her walking away from him. "Do you want me to withdraw my application?"

She wheeled around at that, and her face made his breath catch in his throat. There was a myriad of thoughts and feelings written there he had never seen before, no longer the ordinarily blank slate that would keep him from reading others' emotions, but like a curtain had been lifted from his eyes. He saw so many things in that one gaze: disbelief, anger, hurt, a bit of hope, and _love_. So much love it made his heart ache in response. And at this one moment in time, he was completely fluent in Amy.

"What I want is for us to be planning our future _together_."

All at once the pieces fell into place. He knew just what was wrong and how to fix it. And he did.

It was once she released him from their embrace (and unlike those of the far past, it was one he actually reluctant to let go of) that it happened. While they were still ascending the stairs, while they were discussing the exciting prospect of living together on another planet.

"You know, we could also be the first people to procreate on Mars."

And just like that his newfound understanding of the Amy language was gone. He had just begun to enjoy hugging without the need to Purell his entire body and now she wanted to jump into his pants? _Women_.

But despite his protests, Amy persisted. "Think about it. If we had a family there, our kids would be Martians."

And that was when everything changed.

Sheldon whirled around to look at her in pure wonder and amazement, a grin already invading his features. "They _would_ , wouldn't they?"

There would be two of them, one boy and one girl. They would have his height, as that was more evolutionarily indicative of a superior class of human beings, as well as his charming nature, Amy's eyes and kind disposition, and, obviously, the perfect combination of their intellect. The boy would explore every inch of the Martian colony he could, literally bounding through the lower gravity land and bringing home the reddest of rocks to study (because in this rare case, geology would be an upstanding scientific field to pursue). The girl would stay in with him, not quite old enough to go out on her own yet, sitting on his lap as he reviewed facts of Martian history with her. And Amy would smile at him from across the room as she probed at the rocks with their son…

And for one brief, shining moment, Sheldon could visualize it.

But the final time, the time when he really and truly _knew_ , was when a grumpy attitude during date night and a reminiscing of so many lonely years between them led to the construction of the greatest fort in history. He loved every moment of that night, laughing with Amy without fear of being accused of acting childish and immature, two words that he knew were so often associated with him.

He hadn't wanted the night to end, and thanks to Amy's suggestion it hadn't. Even though they had made many strides in their relationship this year, somehow this step seemed hugely monumental. He felt like he was peering over the edge of a precipice, and the same step that for most would be like any other simple tread in the woods would have him tumbling down to the great beyond. Cohabiting together, even for just one night, would open the door to doing so more and more until it at last became a more permanent arrangement. Until it became forever.

But he had agreed, and before he knew it he found himself roughing it on the floor of their fort in their pajamas, a bowl of popcorn and a safe amount of distance between them. They talked and giggled with an ease that reminded Sheldon of when they were only friends, before those infernal _feelings_ got in the way and complicated everything, before they passed the point of no return that he, strangely enough, wouldn't go back to even if he could. As the hours ticked by the two began to settle down, pillows beneath their heads while simply gazing across at each other with soft, drowsy little smiles. The last thing Sheldon remembered before drifting off was Amy whispering that she loved him. He may have said it back. He hoped he did.

The next morning he awoke to that safe distance not so distant anymore, and he couldn't even blame Amy's feminine hormones because it was clear he had been the one to make a move. An arm slung across her shoulders and a leg wrapped around her own, his face squished into the crook of her neck. In this particular position Sheldon's nose was overwhelmed with his girlfriend's scent, a fact he didn't mind in the least as he could take it in as much as he wanted, rather than trying to subtly catch a whiff when he passed by her or walked up the stairs beside her or kissed her. Mmm, when he kissed her. They hadn't done that yet, as date night hadn't exactly ended yet, and his brain was itching for some closure…

Amy began to stir in his arms, releasing a quiet moan he had never heard from her before but carefully catalogued away into his file of Favorite Amy Sounds, and slowly blinked her eyes open. Sheldon watched quietly as his disoriented girlfriend slowly took in her surroundings, trying to make sense of them, before finally settling upon his face. She smiled. "G'morning Cuddles."

"Indeed," he mumbled, daring to squeeze her just a tad tighter before letting go and rising to a sitting position. Couldn't have her thinking that he was going soft. "Better get ready for the day. Want some breakfast?"

"Yes, but don't move a muscle, mister. I'll be making it."

She made it halfway to the fort opening when Sheldon stayed her with a hand to her arm. "No, I can't let you do that, you're a guest. Social convention-"

"-has entirely different rules regarding a couple," Amy finished. "You made dinner last night, not to mention extended your home to me. Let me return the favor."

Then she smiled softly at him before disappearing from the fort. Sheldon took the brief reprieve as an opportunity to let that goofy grin slip through, the one that he's begun to associate as his "Amy Face". He only allowed it for a moment before composing himself and climbing out after his girlfriend.

Sheldon sat himself at the counter and watched Amy traipse around their- ahem, _his_ kitchen with practiced ease, not even have to think about where the desired ingredients were located. And all the while Sheldon said nothing, opting instead to watch her whip up their breakfast with the rapt attention usually reserved for studying his whiteboard, or watching the season finale for Game of Thrones.

Amy turned to face him with hands full and set before him a beautiful plate of french toast. With butter and syrup.

Sheldon couldn't help the gasp that escaped as his head snapped up to stare at her, but Amy misinterpreted his shock as something else.

"That's right," she said with a coy smirk that made the pit of his stomach do funny little things. "I know every last detail of your meal schedule. Even french toast every first and third Friday."

So with that she sat down across from him to enjoy their meal together. And if she had taken notice of her boyfriend throwing her strange glances now and then, she must have chalked it up to yet another of her boyfriend's odd little quirks that she loved so much.

Because all at once Sheldon didn't need to visualize anything. It was all right there, laid out perfectly in front of him: the morning bed hair, the breakfast, the small smiles, the waking up each day in each others' arms.

And as for those two beautiful dream children, well, all in due time.

Suddenly Amy took note of the time and bolted from her seat. "Oh no, I forgot! I have to be in to work early to give the monkeys their morning espresso shot!" (she was currently comparing the addiction of caffeine in lower primates with her previous finds on those with addictions to tobacco).

Even after she fled the room in a flurry of activity, Sheldon remained rooted to where he was for several long moments, still processing this new information and what it meant for them. Then like a sudden case of whiplash he seemed to come back to himself, and he rose to grab the tea kettle.

Amy whirred back around the corner at record speed, buttoning her sweater up hurriedly, her emergency preparedness bag of sleepover essentials tucked beneath her arm as she made a grab for her purse on her way out the door.

"Amy, wait!" Sheldon cried after her as he screwed the cap on the mug in his hand and went to meet her at his door. "Here." And he placed the still steaming beverage in her hand.

When Amy turned her gaze to his in question, Sheldon explained quickly, the rush of excuses matching the rush of heat to his cheeks. "It's lemon zinger tea. I know we had a late night and I want you to be at your highest productivity rate for work and studies have shown that-"

He pulled up short at the expression on his girlfriend's face, eyes beaming and smile stretching like taffy. "Thank you, Sheldon." Then it was her turn to grow flushed as her eyes turned down to her shoes. "And thank you for last night. I had a wonderful time."

Thinking back to this morning, counting her breaths as she slept blissfully beside him, Sheldon looked at her and dared a smile. "Me too."

Their gazes met, and for just a moment the two lost track of the time as they stared long and deep into each others' eyes. It was Amy who came back to herself first as she glanced at her watch.

"Oh gosh, I really gotta go now." She took a quick step forward and rose on her tip-toes to peck him on the lips, effectively and officially ending their date night. "See you tonight at dinner."

Even long after his girlfriend disappeared down the steps, Sheldon remained in the doorway, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts as he mentally relived every big moment that had happened between them this past year alone, just how far they'd come since the day he'd hurt her by calling Leonard to pick him up in Arizona instead of her.

They were compatible in every conceivable way.

They loved each other.

They made each other happy. Even at the expense of their own enjoyment.

They supported each other.

They were planning a future together.

And all these facts had been demonstrated last night in a domestic setting. There was really only one conclusion.

Sheldon felt oddly calm as he shut the door behind him and strolled over to his desk, first order of business being to call out of work, then to write Leonard a note explaining that there was no need to drive him in to Caltech today. After that he quickly dressed and readied himself for his day, and wearing his bus pants on his legs and heart on his sleeve set out in destination for the nearest jewelry store.

While en route, Sheldon began to plot out the perfect night to officially commit to the love of his life, fully and completely. He'd do it on their fifth anniversary, which was barely a month away, and once Leonard and Penny got a move on with their own wedding, he'd ask Amy to move in permanently. Honestly, those two were moving so slow Giuseppe could probably have beat them out.

Sheldon suddenly broke from his scheming to take a step back and reflect on what he was about to do. Less than a year ago he had mocked his girlfriend's mere suggestion of moving forward, so afraid of things changing he hopped on a train for forty-five days without a thought to how she would feel about it. Now he was going to ask her to marry him, and he could just see them a few years down the line getting that little house, starting that family, enjoying those sunset years together.

And here he was, the bus pulling in front of the very shop Penny had taken him to buy forgiveness from his brand new girlfriend all those years ago, so close to the happily ever after he had once scorned that not even the Flash could be quick enough to get between them now.


End file.
